Possession
by artemis-nz
Summary: Misaki shouldn't run on the stairs. Usami/Misaki. Lemon.


_'Kay, so clearly I am addicted to the man-p0rn. I hope my readers who prefer something on the softer and less smuttier side will forgive me. To everyone else - enjoy._

* * *

It was Misaki's fault.

Usagi had cautioned him before, and Misaki, with all the confidence in life of a young man on the cusp of full adulthood, had ignored the warnings.

The first time it happened, Usagi had let Misaki off with a disapproving glare and a sly nip to his neck (although Misaki wasn't sure if the latter had meant to be some sort of punishment, or whether it had simply been Usagi being his normal, exasperatingly flirtatious self). In any event, Misaki had shrugged it off and gone back up the stairs, ostensibly to do homework, but secretly to make sure that he didn't catch any sort of infectious disease that would make him actually want Usagi to do anything else to him involving his mouth – or at least, not until _after_ dinner.

The second time, Usagi was more serious. In fact, after ascertaining that Misaki had not been harmed in any way, he refused to talk to Misaki at all for the rest of the evening, other than in short, monosyllabic sentences. Things had gone back to usual the very next day of course, and Usagi had assured him then that it was because he had a lot of work to do, but Misaki had his doubts. For one thing, Misaki happened to know that Usagi had already handed in a completed manuscript two days ago – if Usagi really was working on another piece of writing, it certainly wasn't something that needed to be rushed. For another, Misaki had lain in bed for hours listening to ringing silence coming from Usagi's study rather than the insistent tap of a keyboard.

The third time it happened, Usagi snapped.

Misaki had been distracted. The University term was ending, and that meant longer and more difficult assignments, not to mention a more-pissed-off-than-usual Demon Kamijou with a whole stack of chalk at the ready. Misaki was tired, too. He hadn't been sleeping enough lately, partly because Usagi had the tendency to hog the bed, and partly because when Usagi wasn't hogging the bed, he was doing other things to Misaki that didn't involve any kind of rest whatsoever.

The truth was, Misaki had a whole host of excuses not to be paying proper attention; those were only the first couple that came to mind. He was well aware, however, that these excuses would not matter in the least in the matter of less than a second – they flashed through his mind as he heard Usagi yell out something behind him, as Misaki's eyes flitted towards the ceiling, as his fall was cradled by nothing but air. He didn't have time to scream.

The wind was forced out of his lungs as his back met hard wooden floor, and although he wasn't sure if he heard it with his ears exactly, he did register a distinctive crack. _That's my head_, he thought, and closed his eyes against the pain that he assumed would follow.

When he opened them again, Usagi was crouched over him, cradling his body in his arms and making strange, wordless noises. Misaki blinked the spots of white from his vision and tried to speak, but there was still a lack of air, and he ended up gasping instead.

"Misaki! Misaki, god, don't ever..." Usagi was suddenly making breathing a further difficulty, but Misaki had neither the strength nor the heart to push him away. Usagi clung to him, his own breathing ragged, repeating Misaki's name over and over again, hands roaming up and down Misaki's body as if to reassure himself that the boy was still in one piece.

"Usagi-san." He was finally able to speak again. "Usagi-san, look, I'm fine-"

As if his words were the catalyst for it, Usagi grew quiet and drew silently away. His expression had reflected a concerned anguish a moment ago; now it was a face like thunder that Misaki saw gazing back at him. Usagi's eyes bore into him, and Misaki was both taken aback and afraid.

"What did I warn you about?" he hissed, and Misaki was not sure he had ever heard Usagi sound so angry.

"I-"

"What did I tell you to be careful of!"

"Usagi-san, I'm sorr-"

"Goddammit! What do you think would have happened if you'd cracked your head a little harder? Or twisted your neck as you fell?"

"..." Misaki was speechless in the face of Usagi's rage. He stared up at him from where he still lay, trying not to flinch.

"Do you really think you can afford to be so reckless?" Usagi swore, running a shaking hand through his hair. "God, what would have happened if... what do you think Takahiro would have said? Did that thought even cross your mind, just once? How you'd make him feel? How you'd make _me_ feel!"

Tears were beginning to well up, and Misaki swallowed. Usagi seemed to come back to himself a little at this – his eyes softened, and a thumb crept to Misaki's face, wiping away the moisture that rimmed his eyes despite Misaki's best efforts.

"Are you alright?" he asked a little more calmly. "Are you in any pain?"

Mutely, Misaki shook his head. It was true; he could tell just by a clench of his hands that there would be bruises by tomorrow, but his ears were no longer ringing, and his head ached only with the aftermath of the fall, not enough to really hurt.

But Usagi was frowning again, so Misaki gave a proper reply. "I'm okay", he said, and was relieved that he did not have to lie.

"Alright. Alright." Usagi took a deep breath, but didn't get up from where he remained crouching. "Just... just promise you won't do something like that again. _Ever_. Understand?"

Misaki gave another nod, and didn't resist, didn't even put up a token struggle, as Usagi abruptly lent down further to kiss him.

It was not a gentle kiss. Usagi's mouth was hard and rough on his own; he kissed Misaki with a fierceness that made Misaki almost afraid again, even as another, deeper part of him made him want to kiss back. Feeling Usagi's tongue begin to assault his mouth with a vengeance, Misaki gave in to that other feeling, and his arms moved to wrap themselves around Usagi's neck, as if to draw the man closer still.

It was as if this action alone was enough to provoke Usagi to fevered frenzy. His lips pressed down with bruising force, not just on Misaki's mouth now, but also his ear, his jaw, his throat... any which way that Misaki turned, Usagi was there, groaning into Misaki's skin, unbuttoning Misaki's shirt with hands that continued to tremble, although no longer out of anger. Misaki noticed, with a dim sense of awareness, that he himself was making similar noises, sharp sounds of longing punctuated by a gasp every time Usagi touched a more delicate area, or bit down hungrily on flesh made hypersensitive by his attentions. He felt goosebumps break out as Usagi worked his way down, now grazing his teeth across nipples grown hard with want. When Usagi took one fully into his mouth, Misaki heard himself give another, louder moan in response. The cold wood beneath him, the warmth of Usagi atop him and touching him like he couldn't bear to go a single moment without making Misaki feel some kind of pleasure... Misaki arched with the intensity of it all, feeling as though he were being devoured. He had been beneath Usagi plenty of times, had cried countlessly out at the sensations Usagi managed to awake in him, but this... this was different. Usagi had always been passionate, never ceasing to bring Misaki to breaking point with the force of his need. Occasionally, and only when Misaki had given some kind of indication, he had been playfully rough. Nonetheless, Misaki felt that there was a small part of Usagi that remained in control – some small piece of Usagi that had the power to pull himself back from everything, should he ever think to need to.

Misaki sensed none of this from Usagi now. That was not playfulness he felt in Usagi's touches - instead, a kind of desperate hunger had taken its place, and he was not sure that Usagi would be able to hold back once a certain line had been crossed. If Misaki chose to cross it.

Misaki's hips jerked, all thoughts scattered again to the winds as the rest of this clothing was frantically removed. Usagi's mouth was on him again almost before Misaki had the chance to realise that his lower half had been exposed. Hands fisting themselves in Usagi's hair, body involuntarily lurching as it strained to at once both escape and get closer to the source of friction, Misaki felt his world tumble away.

He must have made some sound even stranger than the last, because cool air was greeting his body again. Opening his eyes, he saw Usagi gazing intently at him, taking in his dishevelled appearance, the violent rise and fall of his chest. Misaki saw himself reflected in Usagi's eyes; his own half-lidded and glazed-looking, mouth open to pant, body flushed, naked and vulnerable.

"I- Misaki, I can't- if you want me to stop, then I..."

Usagi's expression was unreadable, but he sounded as if it was physically painful to say these words, and Misaki knew then that this was it. If he didn't truly want this, if he didn't think he was ready, he would have to say so now. In his own honest way, Usagi was telling him that he could not account for his actions if Misaki stayed against his will.

"Misaki."

Misaki realised he had been staring. His mouth felt dry, his lips already tender and swollen.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"I... I don't..." No. This wasn't good enough. He would need to be as honest as Usagi was. His heart hammed fit to split open as he shook his head. "No", he whispered. Still it was not enough, and so he made himself really _look_ at Usagi, knowing he was probably flushing red but deciding it no longer mattered. There could be no going back – not now. He barely heard his own voice, faint in his ears, but he hoped it was strong enough to reach where it was needed. "Usagi-san... whatever you do, don't stop."

The dam burst. All at once, there was nothing at all save Usagi again, and Misaki did not have the strength that it took to hold back the response that tore through him. His body took over completely, melting into Usagi's touches. Usagi was stroking him now, one hand working Misaki into a heated mess while the other was beneath him, circling at the base of his spine and gliding ever further downward.

"Ahh! U... Usagi-san-!" He convulsed, and felt a sticky wetness on his thighs. Usagi's fingers were branding marks into his skin, his hands spreading Misaki's thighs further apart, voice telling him things that Misaki couldn't make out but that somehow made him shudder all the same. Then was another heat, more intense this time, invading him, drawing his senses inward.

"No! Stop it, I can't, d-don't touch-" His words were all mixed up, clawing themselves out of him in the wrong order as he pleaded, wanting more but denying the fact that he was so lost, that the truth was he thought he would die if Usagi stopped touching him, stopped loving him.

"I- aghh!" More guttural noises ripped themselves from him as Usagi's fingers, now no longer within him, left a burning agitation even more unbearable than the last.

He barely had time to catch his breath before he felt Usagi enter him truly. Splayed wantonly beneath him, his body writhing helplessly, Misaki knew himself to be truly powerless. Usagi's first few thrusts threatened to overwhelm him, as pain and pleasure melded seamlessly together. The next few had Misaki begging wordlessly for something he could give no name to. By the time Misaki had surrendered entirely to the fall, Usagi himself was crying out, each new sound from Misaki spurring him on, deeper, harder, _more_, each more ruthlessly forceful than the last-

Misaki surprised himself with the violence of his own reaction at the end. His teeth found Usagi's shoulder; he bit down, hard, as the tension overpowered him again at last. Usagi gasped his name a moment later, and Misaki felt fingernails clutch at already-raw skin as release finally came.

Exhausted to the point of dizziness, knowing he had nothing left to give, Misaki wondered at the sudden weight of his own body; having experienced such an acute sense of perception, it was unsettling to now find that he felt heavy – as if he might sink into the very floorboards and keep falling, spiralling down and down...

"Misaki. I love you. _I love you_."

He mumbled a response, aware enough still to realise that Usagi was shifting, separating himself from him. Misaki's eyes closed as he whimpered. The pain was double; it was physically jarring to adjust to the sensation of being empty once more, but it was just as emotionally distressing for the same reason. This was not something new to either of them, yet for Misaki, who had never before acknowledged that such closeness between two people was possible, felt the absence of Usagi keenly.

"I..." He tried to speak, wanted to be able to express some of what he felt. Usagi shushed him with a hand on his brow, brushing away the hair that clung damply to his forehead.

"I know. It's okay. You're okay."

"You know everything about me", Misaki complained, and felt himself being picked gently up.

"I do. It's because I wanted to discover everything there was to know about Misaki as soon as I realised."

"Realised what?"

"That I loved you. More than I thought was possible."

He did not even have the energy to blush as he was carried upstairs. Misaki was already beginning to fade when he felt the softness of the bed underneath him, but decided he must have been even more out of it than he thought – when he opened his eyes, conscious of a coolness on him, Usagi was wiping him with a small towel, careful not to press too hard. As usual, Usagi was taking care of everything.

Misaki narrowed his eyes accusingly, seeing that Usagi had already partially gotten dressed. "How can you even _walk_ after that?" he demanded weakly, but Usagi only smiled.

"For Misaki, anything", he replied simply.

Misaki could find no words to that. He reached out instead, and Usagi's hand caught his own and held it against his chest, so that Misaki could hear the beating of Usagi's heart. He had done this once before, Misaki remembered. He had not understood it back then – not really.

"Don't cry." Usagi's voice was low-pitched and soft. It only made it worse.

"I'm not... oh." But he was not unhappy – just so tired. And his body ached.

There was the ripple of water, small drops each falling with a plop, and then Usagi had pressed the cloth to his face instead, dabbing gently.

"Misaki. Go to sleep."

"But-"

"Sleep. I'll be here."

There was a distinct possibility, Misaki mused distantly, that Usagi had mastered the art of hypnotism. He was slipping from awareness barely after Usagi had finished speaking; even the cloth being soaked and rung out again before being transferred back to his body was not enough to rouse him. By the time Usagi had drawn the sheets up to cover him, Misaki was already quietly snoring.


End file.
